Save a Life for a Lifetime
by chocosundae
Summary: The day Cronus took the wrong turn, was the day the world was destined to fall, to a pandemic unimaginable; a story for movies and cheesy books, but to Cronus and Rufioh the reality was all too frightening. Living life as a survival game was tough enough but eventually, the despair won, with devastating consequences. ((RufiohxCronus, KanayaxRose, Sad!stuck, M for mature scenes))


Saturday night, the lights shone bright in Cronus' eyes as he walked down the narrow streets. This was the dodgy side of the city, but he'd always felt more at home; it was where he grew up after all. The air was misty as a thick fog descended into the alley, limiting his vision. Cronus kept his hands in his pockets, turning a 6-inch pocket knife between the fingers of his right hand. It was for protection, although he hadn't had to use it very often; he was known in the neighbourhood and was feared by most of the low rank punks in the gangs nearby. He was the lone wolf, the outsider, but he preferred it that way; it was easier to stay low and hidden, vanish if he needed to, without any connections.

As he walked, Cronus grew weary of every moving shadow as the fog got thicker and reduced his vision to mere metres in front of him. He stopped every once in a while, back against the wall, listening for any misbehaviour. As he grew closer to the clearing before 4 tall industrial buildings, he heard faint noises coming from the back doors of one of the warehouses, like muffled, incoherent talking. He approached it cautiously, trying to make out the dark maroon red text on the black doors, "KEEP OUT!". Well that was strange, Cronus thought to himself, he walked these streets every day, knew the whole place like the back of his hand but not once had he ever seen those words, scrawled messily, quickly almost. He drew a finger towards it, brushing the surface lightly; it was still wet, but, weirdly, it wasn't the consistency of normal paint, it was think and gooey, much like-

"Mmmmmmppphhhffff," Some muffled moans came from within the warehouse. Cronus took a step back, realising what the substance was, it was blood. Someone had painted the sign in blood. He grimaced. How much would a person need to be able to write this much, and in that consistency? The fog was getting noticeably thicker by the second, "This place is creepy, I really need to leave," Cronus said out loud to himself.

The muffling stopped. Just as he was about to leave there was a loud thud on the doors. Cronus prided himself on being a tough guy but the sudden crash still made him jump. His heart started to race in his chest, the thudding filling his head and making him go a bit dizzy. He pulled his hands to his head, smearing the blood on his face and into his hair.

Another loud thud preceded the last, and another and another. They were all in the same place, someone punching the metal doors, trying to get out maybe? He called out to whoever could be inside, "Hey, are you stuck? Do you need help?" Cronus was a tough guy but he wasn't heartless. The person inside just groaned and growled inside the warehouse, punching at the door even harder until eventually, there was a visible punch mark on the outside of the door where the figure had punched the door repeatedly. He took another step back, feeling the shadows draw in on where he was standing. He got the feeling he wasn't supposed to be here, as if the sign on the door hadn't told him enough.

Suddenly, the metal gave in and a hand shot through the doors; it looked gangrene and the skin was peeling away, like the person had sustained a great amount of infection in one arm. Cronus recoiled again, disgusted by the sight of it. The bony fingers flexed, showing blackened fingernails; just like something you might see out of a cheap horror film. The arm withdrew and all noises stopped.

After a moment of silent waiting, Cronus gave into his curiosity and creeped closer to the hole in the door, his heart sitting in his throat, pounding ever louder into his head. As he drew level with the hole, squinting through the fog, he saw only one thing…

…an eye. An eye, that had white irises and a small black pupil, bloodshot all the way into the centre, unblinking and terrifying. "Urrhhh," He was shocked, disgusted and fearful all at the same time. This was someone sick and sadistic who had way too much time on their hands to create SFX make up, Cronus rolled one of his shirt sleeves up, pissed that he had fallen for such a cheap trick. He strode up to the door and banged on it loudly, "Hey, I'm not falling for some cheap party tricks, so you better cut the crap,". He forgot how close he was to the hole and the and once again reached out and this time, grabbed his resting arm, gipping it tightly. So tightly in fact, that it seemed to poses some sort of superhuman strength, which was, impossible…

Cronus started to panic as the nails dug into his skin, threatening to tear his own flesh but he managed to pull away, tugging with all of his might until he was free. Free of the pulling but not of the grip, as he looked down to see the arm, still gripped onto his arm loosely, severed at the elbow, socket and flesh exposed. It was rotten to the core. He thrashed about and the arm fell to the floor, lifeless.

Now this, this wasn't a 'cheap party trick'. This was all too frighteningly real. The blood that dripped down the door, that handwriting, was the same as on the arm now lying on the floor. Cronus crouched, trying to make out the words, carved into the rotten flesh, "DEAD". He had to go. Now.


End file.
